


i will be the first in line to open up

by sillysoran



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23431345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillysoran/pseuds/sillysoran
Summary: Linds and Emily go on a field trip to the National Gallery in DC for one of their college art classes
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	i will be the first in line to open up

One day in, and Sonnett already regretted taking this class. Her advisor had suggested it, since she’d already be at school for summer training and it would fulfill one of her graduation requirements. What he didn’t tell her was that a third of her grade was to go on field trips to art museums every Sunday. She only knew one person in the class, her teammate Morgan, so they stuck together for the first couple trips. Sonny almost thought it was fun when Moe was there. They always found some part of the paintings and sculptures to giggle at when their professor turned her back, and Sonnett began to actually look forward to their trips around Charlottesville. That is, until Morgan got called up to the national team, and dropped her summer classes to go train and play with them. Sonnett was ecstatic for her getting to reach her dreams, of course, but couldn’t help being a little jealous that she could just up and leave like that. 

Still, she made a new soccer group chat without Moe, and threw her a going away party with the rest of the team that Saturday, as any good friend would. Unfortunately, the next day was her first solo art gallery trip — and she was not excited. A little wine drunk, she found Kelley, and couldn’t stop ranting about how horrible her class was.

“Make a friend,” Kelley said. “They don’t have to be your best friend or anything, just get someone to talk to. You’re kind of a little insufferable when you’re lonely. Just sit next to someone new in class and be nice to them! It can’t be that bad with a friend. You can do this, Son.”

Sonnett nodded. Make a friend. It can’t be that bad with a friend, she repeated to herself. 

Their professor had booked train tickets to DC to visit the National Gallery of Art. It wouldn’t have been half as bad if they didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to do it. 

Her phone alarm went off four times before she actually had to get up at 6:20. She walked across campus to the train station, eating her banana and checking social media (and another short pep talk text Kelley had sent late the night before). Once she got there, she pulled up the schedule her professor had sent, checking the time she needed to be there. Seeing she was a few minutes early, she sat down on a bench near a couple of people she recognized from her class and popped in her airpods. Too early, she reasoned. Her professor handed out each student’s ticket, and the few of them that were already there filed into the train car. 

“14B,” Sonnett mumbled to herself. 

She was happy to see that it was a window seat, and she didn’t have to climb over anyone to sit there. Minutes passed, and she started to get her hopes up. Since no one was sitting next to her, she figured she might be able to get a nap in before they arrived in DC. And maybe she wouldn’t even have to listen to Kelley’s advice. Just before the train was set to leave, a tall blond girl in a Pi Beta Phi sweatshirt rushed down the aisle. She smiled awkwardly at Sonnett, sitting down in 14A quickly. Instead of saying anything, she just put her earbuds in, pulled up a Spotify playlist, and closed her eyes. 

“You listen to Parcels?” Sonnett asked, before realizing that the girl definitely couldn’t hear her, and feeling a little bit like an idiot. 

She shrugged it off, and laid her head back, hoping to nod off and forget her whole awkward interaction with the girl sitting next to her. 

When she came to, she felt a weight on her. A little confused, she looked over and saw that the girl’s head had was resting on her shoulder. She smiled, and realized they were about 30 minutes out from their destination. Not wanting to wake the girl, she turned to scroll through her Twitter feed. About ten minutes later, she felt the girl wake up. 

“Oh my God. I am so sorry! I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep and I definitely didn’t realize I fell asleep on you. You could have woken me up, I wouldn’t have—“ the girl rambled. 

“It’s cool, I fell asleep too,” Sonnett responded, chuckling. “I mean usually I take a girl out, at least know her name, before we sleep together. But it’s no big deal.” 

She heard what came out of her mouth and instantly regretted it. But she almost thought the girl might have blushed. 

“My name is Lindsey,” the girl said, giggling. “But seriously, I’m sorry for using you as a pillow. I promise that it will not happen again.” (Secretly, Sonnett wouldn’t have minded if it did.)

“Emily, but some people call me Sonnett, or Sonny. Whatever works,” Sonnett said, holding out her hand for Lindsey to shake. 

“Sonnett. I kinda like that,” Lindsey said, shaking her hand. 

“You excited to go stare at paintings for nine hours?” Sonnett asked, voice full of sarcasm.

Lindsey laughed, her face lighting up. “I could think of a few things I’d rather be doing, but it can’t be that bad.”

It can’t be that bad, Sonnett thought. It didn’t seem like anything could be as bad if Lindsey kept talking to her and laughing at her jokes. 

Turns out, it wasn’t that bad. Lindsey was a Classics major, and art was kind of her thing. Before they met, Sonnett didn’t think it would make sense for anyone to be a Classics major, but it fit Lindsey. She had a weird sort of depth you didn’t find in a lot of people. She was insightful and you could tell she took the paintings seriously, almost like they were people that you could meet, and talk to, and learn from. She’d mention little interesting things about some of them that Sonnett was pretty sure even her professor couldn’t have told her. Sonnett wondered if she’d been here before, with how well she knew everything that they seemed to come across. 

After a couple of hours, their professor let them walk around the gallery on their own, and offered a couple suggestions for places to eat lunch if they didn’t want to spend too much at the gift shop café. 

Lindsey smiled, shutting down Sonnett’s quiet chants of “food! food! food!” without any actual words. Before she knew it, Sonnett was standing in front of a pastel painting of a woman and her son. She was holding a small umbrella, twirling in the tall grass dotted with flowers.

“This is my favorite painting in this building. Actually, probably anywhere. When I was little, I used to read these books about famous artists and Claude Monet was my favorite. I don’t know why, but this is the painting I’ve always remembered. It was the first one I truly loved. I bet I stared at it for hours when I was little,” Lindsey said, eyes still glued to the painting hung above her.

“It’s beautiful, Lindsey. I can see why you love it so much. I like the way the clouds just wisp around her,” Emily said. “Thank you for showing me it.”

Lindsey turned to her, beaming. “Let’s go get some gyros. I know a really good cart.”

And so they did. They walked and ate chatted about their professor, Sociology and why Emily majored in it, their families (including just a little teasing about Emily and Emma’s names), soccer, their plans for the rest of the summer. At first, Emily was a little surprised at how easily it came. She was good at making friends, but never at making this good of friends. She could easily be all jokes and dancing and memes, but connecting on a deeper level didn’t always come so easily to her. But somehow it worked with Lindsey. They laughed, and discussed, and wondered how they had never even noticed each other in their class. By the time they reached the Gallery again, Lindsey realized they had missed the time to meet back up and walk the rest of the museum by almost an hour. 

“Eh, whatever. Do you wanna get coffee instead and just meet them at the train station? We were only supposed to have like an hour left in the museum anyways. I can email her that we walked too far and got lost and she probably won’t take off that many participation points,” Lindsey said. 

Sonnett agreed, already looking on Yelp for a close caffeine fix. They ended up at a cozy new place called Compass Coffee, ordering each other specialty lattes. By now, Sonnett would have gotten a little tired of being alone around anyone else. But she was loving it — talking about her favorite music and the best concerts she’s been to with a new friend. She was physically comfortable, in a cushy vintage armchair, but also mentally. It had been a while since someone made her feel like that. 

“Have you been to the National Gallery before? You seemed like you really knew all of those paintings back there,” Sonnett asked.

“Yeah, I actually interned for their communications department last summer. My dad’s friend works as a curator, and he got me an interview. On my lunch hour, I used to go scarf down a gyro from that cart, buy a lemonade in that cornerstore, and then spend the rest of the forty minutes following tours around, listening at just enough of a non-creepy distance,” Lindsey said.

“I bet those tour guides were scared of you,” Sonnett joked.

“They were not! I was friends with all of them, I just didn’t want to freak out the visitors. A lot of private parties will come for special events and stuff. One time the school that the Obama girls went to came for a tour,” Lindsey said. 

“So you’ve creeped out two Obamas,” Sonnett said.

“And maybe the Secret Service..” Lindsey joked. 

As it crept closer to 4:30, they knew they had to get back to the gallery if they didn’t want to miss their scheduled train. The two walked back, Sonnett’s hand finding Lindsey’s all the way to the train car. After they sat down, sharing earbuds this time, Sonnett’s head found Lindsey’s shoulder. 

“Payback,” Sonnett grinned.

“I bought your coffee!” Lindsey giggled incredulously, surprised by Sonnett’s boldness.

“Yeah, but that was fake even. Now we’re real even,” Sonnett smiled back. 

Lindsey groaned, but secretly loved the weight of Sonnett’s head on her shoulder. She pulled up Spotify, and then one of Sonny’s playlists. tieduprightnow by Parcels began to play through her earbuds, and Sonnett smiled to herself, realizing just how far they’d come in a few hours.

**Author's Note:**

> heyo! i'm pretty new to all of this (writing fiction and ao3) but I found myself bored and refreshing the soran relationship tag on here, so I thought I'd write something just in case someone else is too. i'm also thinking about creating a woso tumblr or twitter so lmk if u wanna be friends and i will :) hope y'all enjoy


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